Main menu

You are here

Poem XXXV

II. 113. vâlam, âwo hamâre geh re

My body and my mind are grieved for the want of Thee;
O my Beloved! come to my house.
When people say I am Thy bride, I am ashamed; for I have not
touched Thy heart with my heart.
Then what is this love of mine? I have no taste for food, I have
no sleep; my heart is ever restless within doors and without.
As water is to the thirsty, so is the lover to the bride. Who is
there that will carry my news to my Beloved?
Kabîr is restless: he is dying for sight of Him.